


The Path to Liberty

by 1farmer_girl



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, First Time, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Revolutionary War, Sexual Content, references to death and bloodshed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 05:42:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1farmer_girl/pseuds/1farmer_girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt Hummel is a loyal British citizen. Or at least he was. But when his schoolyard-bully-turned-best-friend, Puck, begins voicing his discontent in regards to King George and the actions of Parliament, Kurt begins to question his own beliefs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Path to Liberty

When Kurt Hummel woke on the morning of November 29, 1773 it seemed like it was going to be just another ordinary day.  Little did he know, it was a day that would change his life forever. 

As always, he was awakened by the sound of his father, Burt, moving around downstairs.  When Kurt was younger he’d had a game where he would try to wake up before his father in order to scare him when he first got out of bed.  However, no matter how hard Kurt had tried, he’d never been able to manage it and had eventually given up. 

It was comforting, in a way, to always awaken to the reminder that his strong, steady father was nearby.  Kurt’s mother had been consumed by scarlet fever a few years back and since then it had been just the two of them, relying on each other.  Kurt’s father ran a prosperous blacksmith shop adjacent to their house.  He’s work brought in enough money for them to live well, but not enough to hire on a maid.  So, ever since his mother’s death, the more ‘womanly’ jobs of cooking and cleaning had fallen to Kurt.

As soon as Kurt woke that ordinary morning, he rose, dressed, and headed down the loft steps to prepare breakfast for his small family of two.  Mr. Burt Hummel was seated at the table, writing, but as soon as he saw Kurt he folded the paper he was working on and slipped into his pocket.  The two exchanged good morning wishes as Kurt brought out the ingredients he would need. 

Because of the chill in the air, Kurt decided to make oatmeal.  He used his mother’s recipe that called for honey to be added to the oats.  This gave the oatmeal an extra sticky texture which would keep the warm meal “stuck to the inside of your ribs,” as his mother used to say.

He spooned out the oatmeal into two bowls and carried them over to the table where his father was waiting.  Over breakfast, the two discussed their plans for the day.  Burt was looking at a regular day at his blacksmithy.  He didn’t have any exceptionally interesting orders, just the usual batch of crockery repairs and a couple dozen wheel spokes for the cart wheeler.

As for Kurt, he needed to make a run to the butchery to get some pork chops for the Christmas party pot luck at the church next Sunday.  He also had to make lunch and dinner for himself and his father, wash any dirty dishes, darn some of his father’s socks, bake and deliver a ‘get well’ casserole to widow Hudson whose son had managed to break his leg earlier that week, help his father with any bookkeeping he needed, and sweep the newly fallen snow off the front porch.

But he only mentioned having to go to the butchery because he knew his father didn’t like the idea of him working so much.  Kurt knew his father worried about his son not having a good childhood because of the loss of his mother.  Before Mrs. Hummel had died, there had been talk of sending Kurt to university, but afterwards Kurt was needed at home too much, not to mention they would never be able to afford tuition after paying the medical bills. 

Sometimes Kurt wondered about how his life would be different if he’d continued with his education, but for the most part he was perfectly happy to stay close to his father.  The two had an exceptionally close bond and Kurt didn’t like to think of his father having to manage all on his own.  So, he painted a rosy picture of his days and carried out his daily chores as cheerfully as possible and without complaining. 

Once the two had finished eating and the Kurt was clearing the table of their breakfast dishes, Burt headed out to open up the blacksmith shop for the day’s business.  Kurt worked his way through his chores, saving the trip to the butchery till the end of the day when he knew the shop would be mostly empty and he would be able to chat with the proprietor, Noah Puckerman, for a while without taking him away from other customers.

On the way, Kurt stopped off at Widow Hudson’s house to give her the casserole and wish her son, Finn, a speedy recovery.  He was obligated to stay and chat with her while she gave him a detailed account of how the leg had been broken (fell from his horse as it was jumping over a gate), the doctor’s prognoses (Finn was young and strong and should heal without any problems), and how much stress Finn was causing his poor mother (quite a lot).

Eventually, Kurt was able to politely make his excuses and head on down the road, shaking his head at Finn.  The boy always seemed to be hurting himself with foolish mistakes.  Just this previous spring he’d broken his wrist when he’d tried to jump over all 16 steps leading from the first to the second floor of the schoolhouse on a dare.  What in the world had made Finn think it was a good idea to make a horse jump over anything in this weather, much less a gate, was a mystery to Kurt.

As Kurt walked into the butchery and saw Puck cutting up sections of pork chops behind the counter, he marveled at how much things had changed since when he’d first met Noah Puckerman. They’d known each other for nearly ten years, though their friendship was a fairly recent development. 

There was no denying that Kurt was on the small side, physically, but this had been even more noticeable when he was younger and even most of the neighborhood girls were taller than him.  Puck, or Noah as he was called then, had been something of a bully and his primary target had been Kurt.

It hadn’t been that bad at first since they only ever saw each other if they passed each other on the street and then there were usually so many people, that the worst Noah could do was shove Kurt out of his way.  However when Kurt’s mother got sick, most of the family’s finances went toward paying her doctor bills.  There wasn’t enough money left over to pay tuition for Kurt’s private school, so he’d had to enroll at the public school that Noah went to. 

After that, it’d seemed like Noah’s goal in life was to make Kurt’s life miserable.  At first, it was just name calling behind the teacher’s back, but when they were 14, Puck had hit a growth spurt that caused him to practically tower nearly a full foot over Kurt.

At that time, Noah had started making everyone call him Puck and escalated his bullying towards Kurt from basic schoolyard taunts to more physical actions.  Puck would organize the other bullies in the school to throw Kurt in the compost heap behind the schoolhouse or throw seawater from the wharf in his face.

What was worse, however, was when Puck went solo in his bullying.  He would corner Kurt in some alleyway between school and Kurt’s home.  Puck was so much stronger than Kurt that he could pin Kurt’s smaller frame to a wall with ease.  He would hold Kurt in place and laugh and tease while Kurt struggled in vain to get away. 

Kurt wasn’t sure why this method of bullying bothered him the most.  Aside from a few scrapes from whatever brick wall Puck would hold him against, Puck never actually hurt Kurt in those alleyways.  When Kurt was faced against a gang in the schoolyard he was able to stand strong against the pain they caused him and not let any emotion show on his face.  However, when it was just Puck focused on him, mouth twisted with cruel words, Kurt didn’t seem capable of holding back tears.  Maybe it had become a reflex ingrained in him because as soon as he started crying Puck would instantly let him go.

Whatever the reason, Kurt didn’t like to think about those days anymore, not when things were so much better now.  A little over a year ago Puck’s father had disappeared.  No one seemed to know for sure where he had gone, but there were more than enough rumors to make up for the lack of facts. 

Mr. Puckerman had never been a well-liked man in the Boston community.  He’d owned a small meat shop near the docks, but he was more likely to be found in the bars and brothels of Boston’s seedy red light district.  This caused the rumors regarding his disappearance to become rather vicious in their telling.

Some said that he’d incurred gambling debts and had been killed when he was unable to pay back the money.  Some said that he’d gotten so drunk one night, he accidently stumbled onto a ship bound for England and by the time he woke up to realize his mistake, the ship had already left the harbor.  Some said that he’d run off with one of the dancing girls to New York. 

In the end it didn’t matter what had actually happened, many of the people of Boston began snubbing Mrs. Puckerman and her two children, Puck and Sarah.  Puck was no longer the head of the schoolyard and he spent the remaining month of his education just as ridiculed as Kurt. 

At first, Kurt was thrilled to see the tables turned, but then he saw the sad, haunted look in Puck’s eyes.  Kurt could remember how horrible it had been when his mother had died.  Losing her had been the worst thing that ever happened to him, but he knew that she was gone because illness had taken her, not by any choice of her own.

Wherever Mr. Puckerman had gone, chances were he had left of his own freewill.  Kurt couldn’t begin to imagine how much pain this knowledge must be causing Puck; that the father he loved didn’t love his family enough to stay with them.

After Kurt realized that he began to extend the hand of friendship to Puck.  At first Puck had been suspicious of Kurt’s intentions.  This was understandable what with all the grief Puck had given him over the years, but in the end, Puck had begun to open up to Kurt.  He started smiling more and he began protecting Kurt whenever the regular gang got too eager.

Then after they’d finished schooling, Mrs. Puckerman had announced that she couldn’t take the snide whispers from her neighbors any longer.  She wanted to move back to her family in London, but she couldn’t afford ship passage for both her children.  It was decided that she would take Sarah with her for now while Puck stayed in Boston.  Puck could re-open the butchery and once he had raised enough money for passage, he would join them in London.

Puck had put on a brave face, telling Kurt of his plans for the shop and how quickly he was going to be able to raise the money to rejoin his family, but no matter how broad his smile, he couldn’t fool Kurt.  Kurt could see how much pain it was causing him to be abandoned once again by the people he loved. 

The day his mother and sister left, Puck had stood on the dock, waving goodbye until the ship was out of sight over the horizon.  Kurt had gone with him for support and by the end of the day he was so glad he had.  Kurt had never seen Puck cry before that day, but as soon as they returned to the little living space above the butchery the tears began falling down Puck’s face at an alarming rate.  Kurt had held Puck close, running his hands up and down the larger boy’s back and whispering random words of encouragement. 

Now, standing in the little shop that Puck had built up with his own two hands, Kurt couldn’t help marveling at how far they had come.  From the days of being schoolyard enemies, Kurt now considered Puck to be one of his closest friends.  They confided in each other on everything and leaned on each other in their times of need.

Kurt walked over to the counter, grinning when Puck looked up and saw him.    

“Well, good evening Princess.  What brings you to my humble establishment?”

Kurt rolled his eyes at the nickname.  It had been Puck’s go-to-taunt when he was pinning Kurt in some alley.  Once accompanied with words of how pretty and tiny Kurt was in a deep, growly voice that did strange things to his insides, it was now light and teasing though it still made Kurt feel things he never felt anywhere else.

“What have I told you about calling me that?”

Puck answered with a cheeky grin, “I just call ‘em like I seem ‘em and the way I see it, only princesses spend as much times as you do in front of a mirror.” Kurt opened his mouth to throw out a rebuttal, but Puck beat him to it.  “If you want me to say I’m sorry I will, but that don’t mean I won’t keep calling you Princess.”

“Well, if you insist,” Kurt gave a put upon sigh, but if he was honest with himself, he wasn’t 100% sure he wanted Puck to stop calling him the name that changed his insides to jelly.

 “Hey, have you heard the news?” Puck interrupted Kurt’s thoughts.

“Hm, what news?”

“Parliament raised the tea tax,” Puck sounded indignant, which caused Kurt to look over at him in surprise.

Kurt snorted, “How is that news?  Parliament raised the tea tax months ago.”

“Come on Kurt, surely you’ve heard the speeches in the square.  Ever since the Tea Act was passed the Colonists have been up in arms about it, it’s one’s civic duty to be aware of such things.  Personally, I think it’s an outrage,” Puck had an expression on his face that he probably thought was suave and worldly.  Kurt thought he looked constipated.

“I think you’re just spoiling for a fight.  You can’t tell me you actually care about how much tea costs.  You don’t even like tea,” Kurt pointed out.

Puck frowned, “You’re not looking at the big picture here, Kurt.  It’s not about how much the tea costs; it’s about the fact that the Colonists have no representatives in what Parliament does.  It’s practically tyranny.”

“Puck, watch your tongue,” Kurt hissed, looking around to see if anyone had heard Puck’s slip of the tongue.  “Saying things like that is borderline treason.  You could get in big trouble if one of the King’s soldiers heard you.” 

“Calm down, none of those bloody redcoats are going to bother coming in a pitiful establishment like this shop.”

“Puck,” Kurt started, only to be interrupted.

“Oh, honestly, don’t tell me you’re going to start harping on me about calling them redcoats.  They wear red coats, it’s totally appropriate.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything about that,” Kurt said softly, laying his hand on one of Puck’s.  “I was just going to say you shouldn’t call you’re shop pitiful.  You’ve done remarkably well running it all on your own.  I’m sure your family would be quite proud of you if they were here.”

Puck didn’t say anything for a long moment, just staring down at Kurt’s hand on top of his own with an odd expression on his face.  Finally, he looked up at Kurt, “You really think so?”

“Of course I do,” Kurt replied, giving Puck’s hand one last squeeze before letting it go.  “Just promise me you’ll be more careful about what you say.  I’m sure all this talk of rebellion is appealing to you, but sooner or later it’s all going to die down.  I would hate for you to get in trouble simply because you got caught up in the excitement until then.”

“You really think it’s that easy, do you?” Puck asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Certainly, this is the same as when we were schoolboys and you and your band of hooligans would whisper about what a foolish old coot the headmaster was.  The only difference is that if you get caught, you’ll get a far worse punishment than having to write out lines.”

That got a chuckle out of Puck.  “Is that a fact?  And are those your own opinions or does Mr. Hummel agree with you?”

Kurt paused, trying to remember a specific time his father had spoken out against the rebels, only to find that he could not.  Still, his father had never been own to pay much attention to politics; there was no reason for him to start now over such a petty affair.

“Of course, Father believes the same as I do.  He is a loyal British subject, as we all should be,” Kurt added pointedly.

Puck just laughed at that, “Well, then what can I get for your lordship this fine morning?”

Kurt smiled before raising his nose to play along.  In his snottiest voice he commanded Puck to bring him his finest selections of sausage and pork chops.  Puck bowed and acted the humble servant as he counted out the sausage links until he flicked a bit of gristle into Kurt’s hair, causing him to shriek and them both to dissolve into giggles.

Once he’d calmed down, Kurt leaned coolly against the counter as if he hadn’t just been giggling so hard he could barely breathe.

“So, what made you bring up the tea tax?” Kurt asked, curious. “I don’t remember seeing anything about it in the newspaper this morning.”

Puck grinned slyly over at him, “No, there wouldn’t be anything in the newspaper.  It’s being kept secret from the redcoats, so it’s being passed along strictly by word of mouth.  There’s going to be a meeting at Feneuil Hall tonight to discuss what the colonists are going to do about the new law.”

“What’s there to talk about?  The law has already been passed, there’s nothing that can be done about it now.”

“Ah, that’s where you’re wrong,” Puck said, wrapping Kurt’s meat up in paper.  He motioned Kurt closer so he could drop his voice down to a whisper. “There has been talk of revolting.”

“Revolting!” Kurt cried out in shock. “Surely, you jest; you can’t revolt against the crown.  He’s the king!”   

“He is no king, he is a tyrant.” Puck hissed, causing Kurt to flinch.  When he saw Kurt’s reaction to his anger, Puck took a deep breath to calm himself down.  “I don’t mean to scare you, but it’s true.  The colonists have no vote in Parliament, there isn’t even a way for us to state our opinion before the law makers.  Things can’t go on like this.  I’m not the only one who thinks this, there are dozens of other colonists who agree with me, and that’s just the ones in Boston.  That’s why I’m going to that meeting tonight, to try and make things better.”

Kurt didn’t say anything for a few seconds, trying to absorb what Puck had just told him.  “Puck, going to this meeting is incredibly dangerous.  If one of the king’s soldiers were to find out and catch you…Puck, you would be in real trouble.”

“I don’t care.  Things can’t go on like this and the only way they are going to change is if the colonists get over their fear and take a stand.”

Kurt bit his lip, worried about his friend, “Then let me come with you.”

“What?”

“Puck, if you have one fault it’s that you are too impulsive.  If you go by yourself, I just know you’ll try to do something radical and get yourself hurt.  If I go with you, I can make sure you keep your head down.  And I won’t stay up all night worrying about you.”

Puck just looked at him for a moment for grinning and saying, “You’d really worry about me?”

Kurt ducked his head, not sure why those innocent words made him feel embarrassed.  “Of course I would.  If something were to happen to you I’d have to walk all the way to Dorchester Street to get a decent pork chop.”

That caused Puck to laugh as he handed over Kurt’s purchases, “Alright then, I’ll meet you outside your house at 8 o’ clock.”

Kurt nodded in agreement and headed back home with the carefully wrapped meat in his basket.

~***~***~

Kurt wasn’t feeling quite so pleased with his decision to accompany Puck later that night as he waited on the front step for Puck to arrive.  For starters, Kurt never liked having to lie to his father, but he’d had to make something up for his evening’s absence.  Kurt was mollified by the knowledge that he hadn’t really lied when he said he would be hanging out with Puck tonight, he just hadn’t told the whole truth.  But what was he supposed to say, “By the way, I’m going out with Puck tonight to a rebel meeting to make sure he doesn’t do anything rash and if we’re caught we could be arrested for treason. You don’t have a problem with that do you, Father?” Kurt snorted at the very idea.

Fortunately, his father hadn’t seemed all that concerned since he was going to go out tonight as well.  Kurt didn’t know where his father was going, but if it kept his father from worrying then he didn’t really care. He had more important things to worry about, like what would happen to him and Puck if they were caught at this rebel meeting.

Kurt was trying to think of the best way to convince Puck to forget all this foolishness, when who should show up, but Puck himself. Kurt frowned at the horse Puck was riding, “Has the cold made you so lazy you can’t walk the short distance to Feneuil Hall on your own two feet?”

“I see that the cold hasn’t dulled the sharpness of your tongue any,” Puck shot back, but the wide grin on his face dampened any sting his words might have had. “The meeting place has been changed to the South Meeting House because so many people showed up that there wasn’t enough room at Feneuil Hall and the redcoats were starting to get suspicious.”

Kurt’s eyes widened at that, this wasn’t the small rebel force he was expecting. There had to be hundreds of people to justify moving to the South Meeting House. The huge building was on the other side of town, the only way to make it there in time for the meeting would be to ride, but there was a problem, “My father took the horse out just a few minutes ago. I have no way to get to the meeting.”

Puck didn’t respond right away, but eventually he said softly, “You could ride with me.”

Kurt sighed, “Oh yes, because that’s just what you need; more evidence that I’m the woman in this relationship.”

Puck made a strange choking noise and shifted in the saddle. “I promise not to make any jokes,”

“Very well, but I’m holding you to that promise.”

Puck laughed and held a hand out to Kurt. A not so small part of Kurt wished it wasn’t so easy for Puck to pull him up.  The rest of him wondered why he found it so thrilling to have Puck manhandle him in front of the saddle. At least he wasn’t cold anymore, secured as he was in Puck’s arms.

“Comfortable?” Puck asked, voice suddenly a lot rougher than it had been.

“Quite,” Kurt whispered, for some reason unable to put his standard level of haughtiness into the word. He wrapped a hand around Puck’s bicep, strictly as a safety precaution, not for any other reason.

The trip across town was oddly silent, devoid of the snappy back and forth commentary that tended to happen whenever the two were in close proximity.

Kurt enjoyed their bantering sessions, but this easy silence was nice too. After a few minutes a few snowflakes began falling from the sky and Kurt flushed when he realized that if he was a girl this scene would look like something from a romantic painting. He was almost sorry to see them arrive at their destination as it meant that he no longer had a reason to stay pressed against Puck’s solid body.

However, this disappointment was quickly taken over by the astonishment at the sheer number of people that were at the meeting house. Kurt knew that the taxes were a sore spot for a lot of people in Boston; who wouldn’t be upset about having to pay more money for things. But he had no idea that this many people felt so strongly about it that they would risk punishment from the king.

Puck seemed to be practically vibrating with excitement, matching the buzz of the crowd, but all these people made Kurt nervous.  There was no way this many people weren’t going to attract attention.

Kurt stayed close to Puck as they moved into the meeting house.  He would have been happier if Puck had been willing to set near the back where there were more seats and they would be close to the exit if there was any trouble, but Puck insisted that they wouldn’t be able to hear everything unless they sat in the front. 

Once they found a pair of empty seats that satisfied Puck, Kurt leaned over to say, “My God, there must be over a thousand people here.”

“Feneuil Hall can hold 2,000, so there has to be more than that,” Puck said back.

“What could have caused such a stir?” Kurt mused, mostly to himself, but Puck answered anyway.

“Honestly, Kurt. Don’t you ever read the paper? A ship that just docked in the harbor yesterday is full of tea; tea that was taxed without colonial consent. This meeting is to decide what to do with it.”

“What to do with it,” Kurt scoffed. “That’s what all the fuss is about? What else are we going to do with it? Send it back to England?”

“Exactly,” Puck said, firmly. 

Kurt was stunned by this statement, but before he could respond and demand an explanation, someone stepped up to the podium and began talking.  Kurt didn’t recognize the man, nor did he find the speech to be all that interesting.  It seemed to just a rant against the king and his ways.

After Kurt got over the shock of someone openly insulting the king and his judgments, Kurt started to zone out of it a little.  It wasn’t until Kurt was literally shaken out of his trance that he snapped out of it.

“Uh, Kurt? About your father being a loyal British subject? I think there’s something you need to see.” Puck gestured a few aisles in front of them and to the left. Kurt didn’t understand what he was supposed to be looking at until he realized that he recognized that profile. Kurt’s jaw dropped as he recognized his father, willing setting in this rebel meeting, nodding in agreement to whatever the speaker was talking about now, and…was he taking notes?

Kurt wished he could have a moment to panic, to run up to his father and demand an explanation, to do something, but the speaker chose that moment to end his presentation and soon the audience was moving out the doors in a rush of people and his father was lost in the crowd.

“Kurt-,” Puck started to say, but Kurt cut him off.

“Just take me home Puck. I need to speak with Father.”

The trip back to Kurt’s house was just as silent as the trip to the meeting house, but it was a different kind of silence. What had been comfortable and relaxed before, was now tense and strained. Kurt just couldn’t get his mind off what he had seen. What could his father have been doing there?

“Kurt, are you alright?” Puck finally broke the silence as he pulled the horse to a stop outside the Hummel residence.

“I- yes, I’m fine, I just…need to talk with my father. I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?” Kurt waved Puck off as he rode down the street then headed inside, his mind still swirling with the evenings events. With careful, precise movements, Kurt removed his coat and gloves and walked to the kitchen, where just this morning everything had seemed so simple.

“Ah, Kurt,” his father greeted, “How was your evening with Puck?”

“It was…enlightening. How was your evening?”

“Oh, nothing to interesting, just a couple drinks with the boys.”

“Father, please, we have a good relationship with each other because we don’t lie to one another. Please don’t start now.”

Burt leaned back in his chair and didn’t say anything for several seconds, just watching his son before finally saying, “You were at the town meeting.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes, Puck wanted to go and I thought it was a good idea if I went with him to be the voice of reason in case things got out of hand. I saw I you there and I-I don’t understand. Why would go to something like that?”

“Kurt, I’m sorry that I lied to you, but you have to understand that there is a very good chance, especially after tonight’s meeting, that the colonists will start some sort of revolt and I didn’t want you to get caught up in all that.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you were there,” Kurt protested. “Surely you don’t believe what these rebels are saying. We’re loyal subjects of the crown.” Kurt wasn’t sure who he was trying to remind with that last part.

“Kurt, I’m sure this must all be very confusing for you and I don’t want my beliefs to influence you in any way,” Burt leaned over the table, squeezing Kurt’s shoulder with his hand. “But you have to understand, things can’t go on like this.”

“Father, these rebels are talking of going to war with the crown. It’s insanity and can only lead to death.”

“No, no Kurt, I know it might seem like that, but very few colonialists actually want that. Many, including myself, are hoping to come to a peaceful arrangement. Word is, Benjamin Franklin himself is planning on traveling to Britain in the spring to do just that. Our hope, my hope, is that Mr. Franklin will be able to make Parliament see reason. All I’m trying to do is keep the hotheads of this town from mobbing the King’s soldiers.”

There was silence for a long moment as Kurt tried to absorb what he’d just been told. This was all crazy talk, but- it did make some sense. The King did have the prerogative to tax his citizens as he saw fit, but the people in England were able to lobby and appeal before Parliament regarding the decisions, it was only fair that the people of America be allowed to do the same. Mr. Franklin was, by all accounts, a logical man. Surely he would be able to get this all worked out in a calm and rational manner.

Kurt ran a hand through his hair, “You promise me you aren’t planning on secretly running off to join some sort of rebel militia, right?”

Burt smiled, “I swear it. I truly believe that with Mr. Franklin’s help, the Colonists will be able work out a negotiation with Britain without the need for bloodshed.”

“Well good, this way I’ll only have to deal with keeping Puck out of trouble.”

Burt didn’t say anything at first, tapping the table with one finger. “You and Puck have gotten pretty close lately.”

This also wasn’t a question, but Kurt could tell that his father wanted him to expand upon the statement. It should really be a completely innocent statement. He and Puck were good friends who enjoyed each other’s company. But Kurt had lots of other friends that didn’t make him feel the way Puck did. Even when he went to social gatherings and danced with the pretty young ladies of Boston, none of them had ever made him feel the things he felt when he was around Puck. None of them could make him feel like he was burning up from the inside out or take his breath away with just a glance from those dark brown eyes…

“Kurt?” His father’s voice snapped Kurt back to the present and he felt his face flush as he realized he’d completely lost himself with romantic thoughts like a girl thinking about royal fairytales.

“Sorry,” Kurt choked out. “Puck and I are just good friends and I worry about him a lot because he’s all on his own since his family left. I just like to make sure he knows I’m there if he ever needs me.”

“Sure, are you alright Kurt? You don’t look so good.”

“I’m fine,” Kurt squeaked out. “I mean, I’m just kind of tired. It’s been kind of a long day, you know? I think I’m going to head up to bed. Goodnight, Father.”

Kurt stood up and pecked a quick kiss to his father’s cheek. He hastened out of the kitchen as quickly as possible without waiting for Burt to wish him goodnight back.

***~***~***

As Kurt curled up under the coverlets, he found his mind drift back over the day’s events. Try as he might, he couldn’t help thinking about how warm and safe he’d felt in Puck’s arms during the ride to and from the town meeting. Idly, he wondered what it would be like if Puck were to hold him like that in his bed.

Would it be the same? Different? Weird? Would the heat that Kurt had felt in Puck’s arms become too much under the added weight of the coverlets? Would they take off their clothes in order to cool off and lay pressed together, skin to skin?

Kurt’s eyes flew open in horror as he realized that he had subconsciously slid his hand down and pressed it against his hardening manhood over his nightshirt.

Kurt groaned and rolled over onto his stomach, burying his face into his pillow and trying to mentally will the erection away, wondering what was wrong with him.

 

After that conversation with his father, Kurt began seeing things differently. Before he would walk around the streets of Boston and see groups of talking people go silent when a soldier walked past. He’d never given it much thought before, but now he would wonder if they were talking about forming some sort of rebellion. Were they planning an attack or something equally rash?

Kurt was confident now that his father wasn’t going to do anything stupid that would put him in danger, but he still worried about Puck. The day after that fateful town meeting Kurt had gone back to the butcher shop in hopes of discussing the events that had conspired after Puck had dropped Kurt off at the end of the night. Though he took care to only tell Puck about the conversation between himself and his father and not what happened later in his bed.

However, Puck didn’t seem all that impressed with the news that Mr. Hummel supported a change in Parliamentary policy. Puck still felt that the only way they would be able to achieve change was through active revolt.  Kurt was trying, oh how he was trying, not to worry about that, but it was just no good.

 

If Kurt only had to worry about Puck running off to join a group of renegade rebels and laying siege to the British encampment, he probably would have been able to handle the stress. However, he also had to deal with all these new…thoughts. Thoughts that revolved around of Puck and Puck’s deep, growly voice and his big hands and his hands on Kurt’s body and so many more things that Kurt didn’t wholly understand.

He knew that these thoughts and feelings were considered incredibly sinful, but he couldn’t seem to make them go away. It was like they’d always been inside of Kurt; he just hadn’t realized it until they had solidified in his head when he’d lain in bed that fateful night. Since then, it was as though a dam had been broken. Kurt couldn’t be in the same room as Puck anymore without his mind being flooded with thoughts and images of the two of them in undeniably lustful situations.

Puck would run his tongue over his chapped lips and Kurt would imagine that same tongue running down his neck and his chest and lower still. When Puck worked in the back of his shop moving the heavy boxes and crates, with his muscles flexing in full view, Kurt would wonder what it would be like to be secured in those strong arms, pinned beneath that solid body. When Puck told a dirty joke as he was want to do, Kurt would blush as he always had, but now it was now only partly because of the crudity and partly because he was now imagining Puck saying the same words, low and secret in Kurt’s ear.

It got to where Puck didn’t even have to be in the room anymore for Kurt’s mind to deviate from the socially acceptable. It seemed impossible for Kurt to lay in bed anymore without thinking of Puck lying in the bed with him. Around and around these thoughts went in his head until he was so confused he just wanted to crawl into a corner and cry.

But there wasn’t cause for complete despair yet. What Kurt needed to do was perform a little experiment. Maybe he wasn’t really a sodomite, his brain was just a little confused when it came to Puck. All the jokes about Kurt being a girl had simply gotten in his head and were messing with his thought process. What he needed to do was see if his perverted thoughts could be transferred to another man.

If they couldn’t, then the problem wasn’t with Kurt, but with Puck. All Kurt would have to do was work himself through this phase, maybe spend a little less time hanging out with Puck. However, if he could start thinking of another man in that manner, then Kurt would know that he really had a problem.

If that happened, Kurt didn’t want to think about what the rest of life would be like if he had to live under the burden of such a horrible secret. But first things first, Kurt had to choose a man that he could test his theory on.

He toyed briefly with using Finn Hudson, but ended up dismissing that idea on the grounds that Finn and Puck were too similar. They were both tall and dark and tended to have a lewd personality. Kurt needed to find someone who wouldn’t remind him of Puck.

After some deliberation he settled on Sam Evans. Sam had moved to Boston from New York a few months ago in order to open a bakery. Kurt didn’t know Sam that well since he usually did his own baking so he had no need to frequent a store of baked goods.

However, Kurt had seen Sam at church several times and, physically, he fit the bill of what Kurt was looking for. Sam had pale skin and blonde hair and while he had a fit body, he was on the small side, the same height as Kurt and barely broader in the shoulder.

In short, he was the opposite of Puck and therefore met Kurt’s needs perfectly.

The very next day, Kurt put on his best winter coat and dug out a large shopping basket and headed out on his mission with a brisk stride. His confident walk slowed considerably as he got closer to the bakery. He was no longer quite as sure as he had been that this plan was going to work out as he had hoped. And if his experiment failed then there would be nothing left for him to do but except his fate in life as a deviant.

Thus, it was with a heavy heart that Kurt stepped into the bakery, letting the strong scent of flour wash over him. He steeled his nerves as he walked up to the counter, glancing subtly around the shop for a sign of the baker. He frowned when he realized there wasn’t anyone else in the shop, though he could hear what were probably flour bags being moved around behind a wall partition. 

Kurt shifted uncomfortably, not sure if he should call out his presence or wait until Sam came back to the counter. In the end, Kurt felt a little bad to drag Sam away from his work when he didn’t really need to buy anything. He also may have wanted to use any form of procrastination possible to put off being face to face with Sam.

So instead, Kurt wondered aimlessly around the shop, looking at all the different baked goods that were on display. Sam really did have an impressive setup, Kurt acknowledged. The shop was meticulously clean and the winter sun shone in the large front window and there were even a couple chairs for customers to sit on if it got crowded. Along the walls there was row after row of shelves filled to the brim with breads and muffins and cookies. 

Kurt was just wondering how Sam managed to get his bread crusts that exact same shade of golden brown every time when the baker himself came out from behind the wall partition, wiping flour off his hands onto his apron. He startled slightly when he noticed Kurt, clearly not aware there was anyone his shop.

“Good morning,” Sam said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry to keep you waiting, you should have called out.”

“Not at all,” Kurt said kindly, moving over to the counter. “I’m in no hurry and didn’t mind waiting a few minutes.”

“Well, what can I get for you?”

“Um,” Kurt said ungainly. He hadn’t thought of a real reason to go to the bakery. Thinking fast he said, “Mrs. Hudson told me about these wonderful maple muffins you make. I’d like to get a half dozen of those, please.”

“Sure thing,” Sam said, grinning.

As Sam packed up the muffins, Kurt could barely contain his joy. His plan had worked out perfectly. He could tell that Sam was a good looking guy, but it was purely on an aesthetic level and didn’t go any further than that.

So pleased was he that Kurt decided he would splurge and buy one of those perfectly baked loaves of bread he’d been admiring earlier. When Sam brought that over as well, Kurt asked him how he managed to keep them in the oven for the perfect length of time and that was when everything went horribly wrong.

Sam said that; while it was important to leave the bread baking for the right length of time, it was also important to make sure that the bread was the right size. If it was too large the inside wouldn’t be fully cooked without burning the crust. He said some other stuff too, but Kurt didn’t catch it because then Sam grabbed a hold of his wrist to move his hand on top of the loaf. The second Sam’s hand touched his, Kurt breath caught and it suddenly felt as though the temperature had risen.

His brilliant plan had failed.

There was no denying it now. Kurt took a deep, fortifying breath as he finally accepted the fact that he was a homosexual. It..wasn’t quite as horrible as he thought it would be.

Kurt blinked and refocused on Sam who was looking at him with concern.

“Hey, are you alright?”

“No, I’m not,” Kurt answered honestly. “But I think I will be.”

Then he grabbed his purchases and walked out of the bakery with Sam staring confusedly after him.

When he got back home, Kurt put his purchases away and then sat down with a cup of tea. Now that there was no more hiding from the situation, Kurt had to think of a new plan of action. This wasn’t the end of the world. As long as no one ever found out, he would be fine. He just had to be extra careful to keep it a secret. Homosexuality was punishable by imprisonment and even death and for half a second Kurt saw a flash of the hangman’s noose in his mind’s eye. Reflexively, his hand came up to his throat and Kurt gulped audibly. Tears sprang to his eyes at the thought of how dreadful it would be to die in such a way. He suddenly wanted very much to scream at the injustice of it all.

But that wasn’t an option. Kurt didn’t want to think about what would happen if he fell apart. For starters, his father would be worried and would want to know what was upsetting Kurt and Kurt was sure he wouldn’t be able to hide something this big if he was directly asked.

And more than anything, Kurt was terrified of what his father would have to say about Kurt’s sinful thoughts. Kurt was sure his father wouldn’t turn him into the authorities for committing sodomy, but at the very least his father would be disappointed and Kurt would hate that.

So Kurt didn’t do anything, no matter how much he longed to. He pushed all those feelings down as much as possible and if he woke up in the middle of the night, his body sweating and aching, he’d tell himself it had nothing to do with the fact that he’d just been dreaming about Puck.

This method of avoidance wasn’t perfect, but if worked. At least it did for a couple weeks until Puck showed up on his doorstep on the evening of December 16th.

It was one of those rare nights where Kurt was home alone. His father had traveled to Philadelphia in order to pick up some raw steel he’d ordered. He’d left 2 days earlier and wouldn’t be back until at least tomorrow, longer if there was a problem with his order or bad weather suddenly came up. Kurt was just beginning to wonder what he was going to make for dinner when he heard the knock at the front door.

Kurt wasn’t really surprised to see Puck standing there since Puck often made unannounced visits. However, he was surprised to see what appeared to be Indian war paint spread across Puck’s face.

“Puck, what on earth do you have on your face?” Kurt asked, his voice an even mix of exasperation and fondness. Puck pouted, his faultless mouth pursed in a thoroughly distracting manner.

“How’d you recognize me?” 

Kurt snorted, “Did you really think you were being that stealthy?”

Puck’s puts on his best sulk face and says, “Fine, just for that I’m not going to tell about the epic event that’s going down tonight.”

“Oh, don’t be such a baby and come inside; it’s freezing out here. Does this epic event explain why you have paint on your face?”

Puck shot him a mock glare, but allowed himself to be pulled into the warm house. “For your information I, and everyone else involved in tonight’s event, are wearing this paint to disguise ourselves from the redcoats.”

Kurt froze, all sorts of horrible possibilities running through his head. “Puck, why would you need to disguise yourself from the King’s soldiers?” Kurt voice was deadly serious, but Puck didn’t seem to notice as he broke out a large grin.

“It’s going to be so awesome, Kurt. You remember that ship full of tea I told you about? Well, some of us have decided to send a little message by throwing the tea overboard. Do you want to come with?” Puck looked so excited and pleased with himself, that it stopped Kurt from hitting him, but just barely.

Instead he yelled, “Are you insane!? For starters, there’s no way some silly paint is going to fool anyone, you are most definitely going to get caught and for another thing, why on earth would I want to join you on such a ridiculous endeavor?”

Puck looked upset now and he shouted right back, “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Is that all this is to you, just a chance for you to get some cheap thrills? You are talking about war, Puck. You are flirting with bloodshed and guns and death. Puck these actions could get you killed!” Kurt finished with a hiss, his face flushed from the frustration he was feeling from trying to get Puck to understand what a dangerous line he was walking.

His rant must have achieved something, because Puck seemed to deflate before him. He looked almost lost, his gaze flicking across Kurt’s face as though he was expecting to find the answers he needed. Kurt felt pinned by Puck’s eyes, unable to speak or move, even though Puck wasn’t touching him.

Puck finally broke the silence saying, “Why do you care?” his voice cracking slightly at the end.

Of all the things Kurt had thought Puck was going to say, this wasn’t one of them. He could only blink confusedly as he tried to figure out what Puck could be talking about.

“What?”

“Why do you care?” Puck repeated his words now with a hint of desperation. Kurt was feeling that frustration again, but for a very different reason.

“How can you ask that?” Kurt finally managed to say. “You’re my best friend. You and my father are the two people I care about most in the world. Of course I wouldn’t want to see you die. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“But why?” Puck had moved closer now. If he came any closer Kurt was sure he would be able to feel Puck’s warm breath wash across his face. “Why do you care so much?” Puck continued, unaware of Kurt’s thoughts, “I’m just a nobody. I was a complete ass to you in school and even now I’m just a butcher, the son of the town deviant. You are such a good person with so much kindness and – and love to give. Why give it to me? What makes me so special?”

Kurt’s breath had caught in his throat when Puck said the word love. Could Puck know about how Kurt felt? No, he couldn’t, Kurt had been so careful to keep his lustful desires hidden. Still, Puck’s words had thrown him and he couldn’t seem to recover. He tried to think of words that would answer Puck’s questions, without mentioning his sinful thoughts, but there didn’t seem to be any.

“I don’t, I – Puck,” all Kurt could get out were random words, but Puck seemed to pull some meaning from Kurt’s stumbling. His eyes took on the same soft, hesitant quality they’d had when he’d asked if Kurt would like to sit in front of Puck on the ride to the town meeting. He stepped closer still to Kurt, bringing one hand up to lean against the wall, his arm so close Kurt could feel the knitted wool of Puck’s shirt brush against his ear.

Puck leaned his face close to Kurt’s, so near that their breaths mixed together as though they were breathing in one. He could surely here Kurt’s heart, which was now thudding in his chest like a drum.

“Kurt,” Puck said, and dear God, why did he have to drop his voice into the register that turned Kurt’s legs to jelly? “Kurt, why won’t you answer me?”

Kurt swallowed hard and tried to say _something_ but all that came out of his mouth was small whimper. Puck’s eyes seemed to darken at the noise and he leaned in even closer. “Kurt,” he said huskily. “Are you hard?”

Kurt finally managed to gasp out a “Yes,” and he was responded by Puck hips suddenly brushing against his own. Kurt let out a cry at the friction and he couldn’t stop himself from rubbing back against Puck, it felt so good. Puck’s face was mere inches away and Kurt found himself drawn to him, kissing him before he even knew what he was doing.

And with that small act, all hesitation was gone. Puck grabbed both of Kurt’s wrists in one hand and pulled them above his head. With the other he palmed Kurt’s waist, sneaking questing fingers under the edge of Kurt’s pants. They seemed fused together now, their hips rocking back and forth in a ceaseless rhythm and their mouths licking and biting at each other.

Faster and harder they went until Kurt’s entire world was just him and Puck and the pleasure racing across his skin. Vaguely Kurt heard moaning and couldn’t tell who it was as the pressure built up until it finally exploded into rushing noise and white spots behind Kurt’s eyes.

Kurt fell back against the wall with a groan, his skin still shivering with aftershocks. He could feel his legs start to give out and it was only Puck’s hold that kept him from collapsing completely. As it was, Puck seemed to be struggling to stay upright as well and he ended up easing their bodies down to the floor where they collapsed in on each other.

Kurt struggled to catch his breath and sort out his jumbled thoughts. It wasn’t until Puck’s voice, “Kurt, _Kurt_ , are you alright?” broke through his haze that he realized that he had tears in his eyes.

Try as he might, Kurt couldn’t seem to get himself under control and the tears began to spill down his cheeks. “Oh Puck, what have we done?” Kurt finally chocked out, his voice filled with the horror that he felt.

Instantly, the warm embrace Kurt had been in was gone and Puck was scooting away, looking…ashamed? “Kurt, I – I thought you wanted to. Why didn’t you say anything if you didn’t?”

“It’s not about whether I wanted to or not,” Kurt cried. “What we just did, Puck, we would be in so much trouble if someone found out.”

“Darling,” Puck reached to touch Kurt’s arm, but when Kurt flinched he pulled his hand back, keeping his distance. “Who’s going to find out? It’s not like we’re screaming it from the rooftops. As far as everybody out there knows, we’re just two good friends who can’t be bothered with all the insanity that comes with courting. What we do indoors is just between the two of us. No one else is going to know.”

Kurt sniffled and scrubbed at the tears on his face. “You make it all sound so simple.”

“It can be. I’m not saying it won’t be easy, we will have to be careful, but I think any amount of danger would be worth it if I could see you in ecstasy just one more time.” Kurt flushed at Puck’s words and ducked his head to avoid eye contact, so he felt rather than saw Puck moving slightly closer to him. “However, if that isn’t something you want, I can leave now and we’ll never speak of this again.”

“No!” Kurt lunged forward to grasp Puck’s arm, startling them both with the force of his actions. “No,” Kurt repeated, much softer this time. “Please, don’t go. Please don’t ever go.”

Ever so slowly, giving Kurt plenty of time to pull away, Puck wrapped his arms slowly around the smaller man again. “Shh, do not worry, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay with you, always, my love.”

Kurt melted into the embrace, feeling warm and safe, even with his doubts still lingering in the back of his mind. So, content was he that it took him several minutes before he realized the extent of what Puck had just said. He looked up, suddenly unsure if he’d heard right.

“Puck, you…love me?”

Puck responded by nuzzling Kurt’s cheek. “Silly boy, I’ve always loved you.”

“I, I think I love you, too.” The moment Kurt said the words; he realized just how true they were. Puck meant the world to him and, yeah, this was most definitely not a smart decision, but Kurt didn’t think he cared anymore. Not when Puck was running his hand through Kurt’s hair and whispering, ‘I love you, love you, love you” like a mantra in Kurt’s ear.

Kurt would have liked to stay in that position for the rest of time, but the evidence of his earlier pleasure was starting to stick to his skin and he was sure he looked a mess. Reluctantly, Kurt pulled away, boldly pressing a quick kiss to Puck’s cheek to soften the distance.

“I don’t know what you could see in me when I look like this,” Kurt gestured at his soiled clothes and rumpled hair with a self-deprecating wave of his hand.

Puck grinned, “Normally, I’d make a dirty joke now, but I was just thinking a change of clothes would be nice.”

“Well, let’s see what we can do about that.” Kurt got to his feet and held out a hand to Puck, entwining their fingers as he led Puck to the clothes chest. He selected a soft shirt and pair of trousers that would probably fit Puck, handing over the carefully folded clothes.

In hindsight, it was foolish to believe that Puck would change behind a screen. It went against everything that made Puck who he was to do something like a normal, modest person. Of course Puck would strip right out in the open for anyone, mainly Kurt, to see. Kurt quickly averted his eyes when Puck’s golden skin was exposed to the air. A minute later Puck, fully dressed in the clean clothes, flicked Kurt’s ear. “It’s safe to look now, Princess.”

Kurt looked up to see Puck grinning down devilishly at him. He pouted, scooping his own change of clothes up in his arms. “I don’t know what you’re grinning about. I couldn’t care less that you have the etiquette of a caveman. Now, you wait here, I’m going to go change in the _washroom_ _like a normal person_.”

Kurt was followed into the restroom by the sound of Puck’s laughter, but he wasn’t bothered by it. Now that he was by himself, he could really think this situation through. He understood what Puck had said about no one finding out about what they might do behind closed doors, but it was still a big, scary step to go from being in denial of his feelings to fully embracing them.

Kurt removed his clothes, making a mental note to make sure they were washed before his father came home, and dunked a washcloth in the basin of water on the counter. The water was icy cold, but after his heated actions, it was quite a relief to have the chilly liquid run over his skin. Once he was clean, he pulled on the new clothes, reveling in how refreshed these simple actions made him feel.

He then turned to the small mirror and tried to do some damage control on his hair. As he stared at his reflection he wondered how Puck saw him. Did Puck’s blood race and his heart pound like Kurt’s did whenever he looked at other man? Had Puck been as drenched in pleasure by their earlier actions as Kurt? Was Puck satisfied by what they’d done or would there be more he wanted to do?

Kurt wasn’t even sure if there were other things they could do, but he was sure there were things that Puck had picked up during his lifetime of being drawn to all things deviant and perverse. What was Kurt going to do now? Should he invite Puck up to his bed, or was that too forward? Was he ready to go that far?  

Kurt took a deep breath as he brushed a final stray strand of hair into place. For now he would just follow Puck’s lead. He’d make some dinner for the two of them and if Puck headed back to his place afterwards, that was that. And if Puck lingered then – well, then Kurt just might let Puck show him what else homosexuals could do if they were so inclined.

With a finally pat to his hair, Kurt strode out of the washroom, trying to look like he was more confident then he was really feeling. Puck was flipping randomly through one of the books on the fireplace mantle, but he looked up when he heard Kurt enter the room, a smile spreading across his face.

“There you are, I was starting to think you’d gotten cold feet and tried to sneak out the back.”

Puck was still smiling as he said this, but Kurt could see a bit of a strain around his eyes, as though he really thought Kurt would leave him like that. Kurt crossed the room quickly to pull Puck into a hug. Puck responded instantly and Kurt could tell by how tight he was being held that he’d made the right decision.

He gave Puck a final squeeze before pulling back with a smile, “Sorry, Puck, but you aren’t getting rid of me that easily. You’re stuck with me now.”

Puck gave a put upon sigh, even as he beamed at Kurt like he was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. “Well, I suppose I’ll survive somehow.” He emphasized this by pulling Kurt in for a kiss. Unlike their early kisses that were fast and hard, this one was soft and languid as if they had all the time in the world, and maybe they would have, except they were interrupted by the growling of Puck’s stomach.

Kurt pulled away with a laugh, pleased to see a hint of pink on Puck cheeks. It was good to know that he wasn’t the only one who blushed.

“I think we need to get some food in you before we do anything else.”

Puck grinned sheepishly, but eagerly followed Kurt into the kitchen. Kurt opened the ice box and pulled out some cold meats, placing them on the table with a carving knife. He then took down what remained of the bread he’d bought from Sam earlier. It seemed fitting that the baked good he’d bought when he’d realized he was a homosexual should be a part of when Kurt came to accept that fact.

Puck cut up the meat and bread, humming tunelessly and completely unaware of what a profound decision Kurt had made. He placed the food on the two plates Kurt had provided and sat down in one of the chairs around the table. Kurt made a move to go to a chair of his own, but before he made it more than two steps he was grabbed around the waist by Puck and pulled into the other man’s lap.

Kurt squeaked in surprise, flailing a little with his arms as his center of gravity was so suddenly changed. When he finally settled to find himself settled on Puck’s knee, he turned around to fix his best glare on Puck. “What did you do that for?”

“Kurt, you should know me well enough by now to know that I never need a reason to mess with you.”

Kurt huffed, but knew it was true, so he got up from Puck’s lap without further comment.

Or rather, he tried to get up. He wasn’t able to because Puck’s arm was still firmly secured around his waist. Kurt tapped the arm pointedly, “Alright, you’ve had your fun, now let me up.”

Instead of doing as he was told, Puck acted as though he hadn’t heard and picked up a small piece of meat with his fingers and bringing it to Kurt’s mouth. “Let’s just eat like this,” he said, still holding the meat as thought in offering to Kurt.

Very slowly, Kurt took the meat from Puck’s fingers chewing thoughtfully as he wondered at his boldness. After he’d swallowed he asked hesitantly, “Is this really alright?”

Puck smiled reassuringly, “Do you see any windows that someone can see us through? Don’t worry so; everything’s fine.” So, Kurt relaxed into the situation, letting Puck feed him and occasionally offering up a piece of food himself.

Kurt was quite enjoying playing out this peaceful scene when he was suddenly jolted out of it by a bang that sounded disturbingly like a gun shot. “What was that?” Kurt asked, startled.

“It sounded like it came from the harbor,” Puck answered, his face thoughtful. “Sounds like the tea party must have been crashed.”

They stayed quiet, but there was no more noise to be heard. Eventually, Kurt turned back to the table only to see Puck was still distracted. “Do you still wish you were there?” Kurt asked softly.

Puck ran his hand comfortingly up and down Kurt’s back a few times before answering. “I won’t lie to you, I still believe what happened was important, but would I trade being there with being here with you right now? Never.”

Kurt ducked his head shyly at the words, but snuggled further into Puck’s arms nonetheless. Puck didn’t let him hide for long though, hooking a finger under Kurt’s chin and tilting his face up. “Listen to me Kurt. I don’t think you fully understand how much you mean to me. I’ve loved you forever, even before I realized what I felt for you was love. I’ve dreamt and hoped that I would someday be able to hold you like I have tonight. I still can’t believe it really happened and I’m scared it’s just a dream I’m about to wake up from.”

Kurt felt a warm glow spread through his chest at Puck’s words and he didn’t even stop to think before he pressed his mouth to Puck’s. In seconds the food and everything else had been forgotten in favor of exchanging sweet, soft kisses.

It wasn’t long before the kisses became wet and dirty and soon they were grasping and pulling at each other. Kurt could feel Puck hardening under his thigh even as his own pants pulled tight across his erection. Kurt threw his head back with a gasp when Puck suddenly brought one hand down to palm Kurt through the fabric.

Puck latched onto Kurt’s suddenly exposed throat, sucking hard on the pulse point. Kurt whimpered and was sure he was going to climax for the second time that day right there at the kitchen table, but at the last second Puck pulled away.

Kurt whined and tried to drag him back in but Puck held him back. “No, Kurt wait, I want to feel you completely this time.” Those few words cooled Kurt’s ardor considerably as he absorbed the full weight and meaning of them.

He didn’t do anything for nearly a minute, just stared silently into Puck’s eyes. Then he carefully stood up, taking Puck’s hand in his. Kurt brought their joined hands up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to Puck’s knuckles.

“Noah Puckerman,” Kurt said solemnly. “Would you like to come upstairs with me?” Kurt looked up through his eyelashes to see the most tender smile on Puck’s face as he responded. “I would be honored.

Kurt couldn’t define and sort out all the feelings he had as he lead Puck up the stairs to his little bedroom. He definitely felt nervous and intimidated, but he was also curious and excited. In the room, Kurt walked through the dark by memory and lit the oil lamp he kept by his bedside so it emitted a soft glow of light across the room.

Then he turned to Puck and, with fingers that were only trembling slightly, began to unbutton his shirt. He could hear Puck’s breathing becoming harsher as he exposed more skin to the night air and when he finally removed the shirt completely Puck let out a choked out groan as if he’d tried to hold it back but couldn’t.

That involuntary noise was what gave Kurt the courage to finally look at Puck full on and he was surprised to see that the other man’s pupils had been nearly completely dilated. Blushing slightly, Kurt turned his attention to his pants and carefully removed them, trying desperately to hide his sex when they were gone.

That seemed to set off a trigger for Puck and he tore off his own clothes like a mad man and swept Kurt up in his arms, pressing kisses all over his face and saying things like, “so beautiful,” and “I’ve waited so long” as he gently laid Kurt out on the bed.

On the bed he propped himself above Kurt and gazed down at him like he was more stunning than the sun itself. Kurt squirmed under the scrutiny and suddenly wished he hadn’t left the light burning.

He felt better when Puck started kissing him again and he had a reason to close his eyes. Soon he forgot all about his embarrassment as he found himself surround completely by Puck. After Puck’s earlier display, and just his personality in general, Kurt had expected Puck to be more forceful in the bedroom, but it was in fact quite the opposite. Puck couldn’t have been gentler as he moved down Kurt’s body, pausing here and there to give extra attention to an earlobe or nipple. Kurt didn’t know how long they spent exploring each other bodies. But he did know that when they finished, sweaty and sated, he’d never felt more whole than he did in that moment.

Kurt woke as the dawn was just breaking to a heavy arm and leg thrown over his body and Puck snoring softly in his ear. It was so warm and comfortable and _right_ that Kurt would have liked nothing more than to simply roll over and go back to sleep, but Kurt had never been good at laying about for the sake of being lazy. After a few minutes of trying to convince his body to go back to sleep, he gave up with a sigh and wriggled out from under Puck’s arm, wincing slightly at the newly discovered soreness in – certain areas.

As quite as a mouse, so as not to wake his…what was Puck now? His friend? His beau? His lover? Kurt blushed at that last one, but as he was in the middle of cleaning the remnants of last night’s passion from his body, he couldn’t really find fault with that term.

He winced again as he reached back behind himself to clean his bottom, wondering if it was possible to burst into flames from embarrassment as he remembered all the things Puck had done back there the previous night.

Kurt thought about getting dressed, but in the end decided to simply throw on a nightshirt and some slippers before heading to the kitchen to make some breakfast. In short order he fried up some bacon and toasted bread. He was tempted to make tea like usual just to see how Puck would react to it, but in the end decided to take the easy road and just make some coffee.

He frowned once everything was made and Puck still hadn’t come downstairs. How could he still be asleep? Kurt contemplated the situation for moment before his eye caught on the tray he used to carry meals to his father when he was sick in bed. He piled the food onto the tray and carefully carried it back up the stairs.

He set the tray on the bedside table and crawled back under the covers with Puck. Throughout all this, the man still hadn’t woken up. Rolling his eyes, Kurt flicked Puck’s ear. That got Puck’s attention and he came to with a snort.

Kurt dropped a quick kiss on his temple while he was still disoriented. “Morning,” he said offering Puck a mug of coffee.

“I love you,” Puck mumbled, though Kurt couldn’t tell if Puck was talking to him or the coffee. Whichever it was, Kurt fixed Puck a plate and waited until he was a bit more coherent. Finally, Puck seemed to come fully awake and he pulled Kurt to him for a morning hug.

“Isn’t it a beautiful morning?” Puck grinned, chomping down on the bacon.

“Gorgeous,” Kurt smiled back, sipping his own coffee. For a minute there was only the sound of Puck’s chewing until Kurt suddenly burst out, “There are more soldiers on the road this morning.”

Puck looked over, confused, “What?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to just blurt that out, but it’s true. I think they’re looking for the people involved in the tea party. I- Puck I’m worried. I know you wanted to go there last night and I’m so glad you didn’t, but I don’t want to hold you back from what you’re so passionate about. I’m just scared I’m going to lose you when I’ve only just found you.”

“Hey, now,” Puck murmured, running a hand though Kurt’s hair. “There’s no need to worry, I’m not going anywhere. You’re right that I need to be more careful and I promise to try.”

Puck touched his forehead to Kurt’s. “I will always be with you, Kurt; for as long as you want me.”

He sealed the promise with a kiss as the church bells rang in the new day.


End file.
